The Bond Through Hate
by TheElementist
Summary: Max Thunderman is a delinquent, trouble-maker. Secretly he's a covert agent and assassin known as the Contractor with both the Hero League and Villain League after him. Phoebe Thunderman, a superhero and the one inline to inherit the family's heir and global business empire. Can she right Max before the two Leagues catch up to him? Slight AU and Thundercest. Don't read if offended!


A/N: Don't know where this story will go but I have a vision for the initial chapters.

If you guys have any ideas, you can PM me. I might or might not take it.

/

P.S. English is not my first language.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1: COWARDS**

* * *

They circle around him, stalking and snickering like hyenas howling around their catch of the day.

A fish out of the water, they see him as, chocking under a hot baked Sun.

"How's it goin Max?" One of them asks; his voice carrying a sarcastic hint of worry. Not before he grins, bearing his teeth wide. He twirls a stick between his fingers while pacing with the others as they stalk around him.

They flash their weapons; a mix of jagged sticks, pipes, and wooden swords. At least they weren't metallic.

Guns! He worries about those. It would be out of character if these cowards weren't carrying one.

Max glances past his shoulders. They have him encircled; eight of them he counts. A couple new faces but most he recognized from his past dealings with them. Never thought they would now try to jump him in broad daylight and on campus. It complicates things with witnesses, but….

A wicked grin defaced Max's once calm face and even threatens to leap out of his mouth into a buoyant laughter. His blood boils of excitement. Nothing spices a dull life like a brawl.

This, the guy doesn't miss. He stops in his track, and the pack follow suit.

"Boys!" He shouts, echoing to the rest. "Looks like someone's excited to see us as well." The others start laughing. Max laughs as well. They all laugh together. The humor flies among them but each interprets it differently

After a minute or so of guffawing, Max wipes a tear near his eye that wasn't there. The laughter threatens to unravel his composure, but he reigns himself with focus, dipping his hands into the pockets of his long black coat to ground himself.

The first to speak, Max breaks the chuckling ruckus. "How 'bout we get this rollin? We don't got all day." He offers, sounding tired somewhat.

The guy ceased his giggling, but his arrogant grin remains. He slaps his palm with his jagged stick. "You heard him boys!" He bellows. "We don't got all day." The others jeer, raising their weapons like a horde of pirates about to sack a naked village.

Max Thunderman glances past his shoulder once again—the collar of his jacket obscuring his view—but he marks a final headcount on the pack and their weapons before facing back to the pack leader. He smirks at the man. This is going to be great.

* * *

She feels complete. Her head sleeps on his shoulder as a cool fall breeze dance around their bodies. His scent is intoxicating and is drugging her with drowsiness. A mixture of cinnamon and vanilla hugs her nose. She can't decipher the exact scent, but recognize that Old Spice perfume anywhere. One of Max's favorite brands; however Max's scent possessed a fruity aroma as well.

Phoebe's eyelids flutter as she wakes from her drowsiness. She shakes any thought of equating her delinquent brother to her angelic boyfriend.

Link picks up on her stirring and hugs around her body, rubbing her shoulder. "How was your nap, sleepyhead?"

"I wasn't sleeping." Phoebe bites back.

"Oh?" Link feigns shock.

"I was only snuggling." Phoebe pouts and hugs deep into his chest, hitting another wave of his strong scent. She will remind him to change his body spray. Maybe she should pick one up for him as a gift.

Link chuckles and she feels the ripples of it through his chest. It brings a smile to her lips.

She wants to be fixed to him like this, glued to his chest under this nice breezing air, out in the open. But they've been snuggling for half an hour and when his laughter subsided, she pries off to peak at his face.

His warm tight-lip smile greets her. It's infectious, his smile, and she smiles back.

"You're beautiful." He woos her, brushing away some of her black locks cupping her face. She melts under his touch and her cheek sinks into his hand.

She draws her face near to him as he does his and their eyes begin to relax. His warm breathing brushes past her nose and lips.

A loud pop, quick and sudden with a flash, rattles their senses. They both peel apart and their gazes widen.

She is more alert than ever. Her mouth agape with shock; words just hanging below it, struggling to spew out. That pop; a sound she recognized so well; in fact too well for someone young in age as her.

Link read the dread in her eyes; the words she couldn't utter. He knew that sound as well. "A gunshot!" He said and she nodded; his calm voice swayed away some of her fright.

People around in the open where in limbo; standing and glancing around for some inference as to that pop; looking at friends and strangers alike for some unspoken information. That wasn't a normal pop, they suspected.

Those with cunning ears registered the pop to be a gunshot and they took action first. Crouching and ducking their heads, they moved with quicken pace.

They spoke their fears to those standing, aimlessly around, and when the word of a gunshot disseminated around, panic ensued.

People ducked more and everyone either ran back inside buildings for covers or ran the other way, leaving the campus ground altogether; cellphones hugging their ears.

"It's very close." Phoebe manages to say; her voice sharp. Link agrees with his nod but his fierce gaze stares away from her, towards a direction he suspects the shot came from.

"Should we check it out?" He suggests but she is unsure. She stares into his stern gaze and then it dawns on her. They have powers and they're heroes. It will be a derelict of responsibility of they didn't.

"Okay." She says and on their feet and towards uncertainty they went.

* * *

"Fuck that was close." Max watches as the pack leader falls to the ground like a timber. A fist to the jaw was the final blow to the man. But Max stares at his other hand; the handgun he held. One of these cowards did bring a gun. And of course it would be the pack leader. Why delegate such an important tool to a subordinate.

Max smiles, impressed at his intuition. He knows these cowards too well. And that was a good thing.

But this gun is a bad thing. He grips it half and slides the top open to see a new bullet lodge inside the chamber.

"MAX!" Came a feminine voice; one he wished wasn't here to find this.

"Oh hey, Phoebe!" He greets the two with a cool voice; his trademark smirk stamped on his face.


End file.
